


Not Like Most Folk

by starlightwalking



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Back to Middle-Earth Month, Domestic Fluff, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), F/F, Friendship, Gen, Interspecies Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25625614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Belladonna makes some new friends on her journey home.
Relationships: Belladonna Took & Original Character(s), Original Dwarf Character(s)/Original Elf Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Back to Middle-earth Month 2020: Endings and Beginnings





	Not Like Most Folk

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working my way through the last of the B2MeM prompts! Only 5 left after this one!
> 
> This was for B2MeM 3/24/20. The official prompt was this quote: "He sat down on the bank at the side of the road and looked away east into the haze, beyond which lay the River, and the end of the Shire in which he had spent all his life." (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book I, Chapter 3)  
> I also used the generator to come up with these prompts: Trollshaws [LOTR/Hobbit Locations] and "And hand in hand, they jogged around the corner and out of sight." [Last Line]
> 
> I got to make some OCs for this one, which was fun! Lammoriel's name means "echo daughter" in Sindarin; Gunvor is just a (feminine) Norse name, like Tolkien used for most of his dwarves.

The Trollshaws weren't exactly the safest place in Middle-earth, but Belladonna wasn't much intimidated by their dangers. She'd seen worse in her travels, with _and_ without the help of pesky old Wizards like Gandalf, and she could deal with a troll or three if she came across one. Hobbits were a quiet-footed people, and she was plenty clever; she wasn't at all concerned by clumsy, daylight-fearing trolls. At least, not in broad daylight.

Belladonna hummed as she walked along the main road, overgrown with grass and not often used but still there nonetheless. She kept her ears sharp for the sounds of any approaching Big Folk, but it was a sunny summer evening and she would reach home in a week or so with the fruits of her latest adventure. She hadn't much to worry about.

A rustling caught her attention: footsteps, lighter than the usual kind made by Big Folk, but certainly not as soft as hobbit-feet. No goblin or orc was that subtle, not round here these parts at least, so unless it was one of those mannish Rangers she wasn't sure what she could be dealing with.

Belladonna rested a hand on the dagger she kept concealed beneath her traveling cloak. "Who goes there?" she called out, trying to keep her voice bright and unintimidating. She didn't want to goad the approacher into an attack.

The footsteps ceased, and Belladonna sighed theatrically. "I know you're there," she tutted, like she was scolding one of her little sisters. "Come on out—surely you're not afraid of a wee hobbit lass like me!"

To her astonishment and delight, the figure that stepped out of the shadows was no man nor goblin, but an elf! Belladonna had visited Rivendell once and met a few wandering elves in her travels (including a few on their way to the sea, a pair of hunters from the far east, and once a lone melancholy bard who refused to give her his name but whose sad songs brought her to tears), but still, such a sight was a rarity.

"Well!" she exclaimed, bowing deeply to the elf. "A star shines on the hour of our meeting, as your people say! 'Tis a shame I can't greet you in your own tongue, but I hope my manners are not too insulting. Belladonna Took, at your service!" That last was a quirk she'd picked up from the one time she'd traveled with dwarves; it was polite and to the point.

The elf smiled and gave her a matching bow. "Why thank you, Miss Took. Worry not; your manners are impeccable. Ah—but where are my own? I am Lammoriel, at your service."

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" Belladonna said. "But whatever is an elf doing around these parts? Don't you know this place is crawling with trolls?"

Lammoriel laughed. "That is precisely why I am here!" she cried. "And I could ask the same of you—it's not often you periannath stray this far from the Shire."

"Are you a troll-hunter, then?" Belladonna wondered. "I myself am just passing through; I have just concluded a thoroughly exciting adventure, with a dragon's hoard and everything." Now, the dragon hadn't been _alive_ , that was far too dangerous even for her—but its gold had been real enough, and the group of Big Folk she'd traveled with had been quite generous with her. It probably had to do with them being all women; Men proper would try and cheat her out of her share, and an individual woman might attempt to take advantage of a lone gentlehobbit as well, but this guild of adventuring women were a decent sort. She hoped to work with them again someday.

"Not a troll-hunter, no, but I rely on the reputation of these Trollshaws to keep people away." Lammoriel glanced around, then leaned down a bit to whisper, "You see, most of my folk are rather unfond of my wife. It's horribly unfair, and I'd rather not invite them to my doorstep."

"I suppose I should be on my way, then," Belladonna said, glancing at the horizon. Oh, dear—the sun was setting a bit faster than she'd anticipated, and spending the night alone in the Trollshaws after its namesake inhabitants came out of their caves did not sound very pleasant.

"Oh, not at all!" Lammoriel offered a hand to her. "There's plenty of space at our table for a fine young lass like you, if you'd like to stop by for supper, and maybe spend the night. I wouldn't want you to be all alone in these troll-infested woods."

"I don't want to impose," Belladonna demurred, but she was quite relieved to be offered shelter for the night, and a bit excited to meet this imposing wife of Lammoriel's.

"Nonsense—Gunvor has never seen a periannath before, she'd love to meet you," Lammoriel assured. "Please, it would be our pleasure."

"Then I am honored to accept your invitation," Belladonna said. Gunvor was an interesting name for an elf; perhaps she was from a different tribe or something. That would explain why Lammoriel's folk weren't so approving of her relationship.

Lammoriel was a chatty companion, wasting no breath telling Belladonna what Gunvor was cooking for supper as she led her down hidden paths to a small cottage tucked away in the wood. Soon enough Belladonna could smell the stew for herself, and her stomach rumbled: it had been a good few weeks since she'd eaten more than the game she caught and her supply of waybread.

"Gunvor, I'm home!" Lammoriel cried as she strode into the cottage. "And I brought a guest! This is Belladonna Took, an adventurer out of the Shire!"

Belladonna couldn't help but stare as she beheld Lammoriel's wife. Gunvor was no strange elf: she was a dwarf, only a hand taller than Belladonna herself with bright eyes and wooden beads braided into her light brown beard. She was dressed in a housewife's apron and had a flower tucked behind her ear, and the soft look she gave her wife warmed Belladonna's heart.

"Gunvor, daughter of Beldin, at your service," she introduced herself with a musical voice.

Belladonna grinned. She liked Gunvor already. "Belladonna Took, daughter of Gerontius, at yours!"

"What a pleasant surprise, Miss Took," Gunvor said. "Did Lammoriel abduct you from the road?"

"We crossed paths, and she offered a place to spend the night," Belladonna explained. "Thank you both for your hospitality."

"We're glad to have you," Lammoriel said, leaning down to give Gunvor a quick kiss on the forehead. "It isn't often we have such unjudgemental guests; you can imagine most elves don't take kindly to dwarves, and vice versa."

"And most hobbits go their whole lives without meeting either!" Belladonna said as Gunvor ushered them both to the table. It was tall, built for Lammoriel, but some of the chairs had footholds for shorter folk like Belladonna and Gunvor to climb up to. Quite genius, Belladonna thought. "You can imagine what most folk think of me and my adventures, just as I can imagine what most folk think of your marriage."

"We're not like most folk," Gunvor chuckled. "And we're glad to have you here, Miss Took."

"Please, call me Belladonna," she dismissed. "I feel as if I am among friends, for all we've just met!"

"I would be honored to call you a friend," Lammoriel said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. "And as a friend, I invite you to have the first bite of our meal—I know you periannath have large appetites!"

"When not adventuring, certainly," Belladonna agreed, and her stomach rumbled. They all three laughed, and she dug into the stew eagerly, glad to be among such good company.

* * *

Belladonna whiled away the evening in conversation with Lammoriel and Gunvor. Their love story was simple, as they went: Lammoriel was a Sinda elf whose parents hailed from Lindon before it fell, and while trading furs with a dwarven caravan just outside the Blue Mountains she met Gunvor, daughter of Broadbeam merchants. They became friends, fell in love, and when their respective families expressed disapproval, eloped to the east. They'd built this cottage in the Trollshaws and lived together happily, though they missed having visitors.

As delightful as they were, Belladonna could not stay forever—she was eager to return home to her family, and to see if perhaps that Bungo Baggins had improved in his golf skills. So the next afternoon she gathered up her things and announced she must be on her way.

Gunvor and Lammoriel insisted on accompanying her to the edge of the Trollshaws (though they encountered no trolls at all, not even stone ones). Once they reached the Last Bridge they surprised her with gifts of elvish waybread (not the magical kind she'd tasted on her one visit to Rivendell, but still much better than the mannish stuff) and a whetstone for her dagger, which she'd mentioned was getting dull. Belladonna teared up as she bid her hosts a somewhat reluctant farewell, inviting them over for tea in the Shire if they ever got lonely.

"Oh dear, I don't know if we'd be welcome," Gunvor demurred. "I know you halflings are very concerned with propriety."

"Nonsense!" Belladonna cried. "Us Tooks have unusual guests now and again—usually Big Folk from Bree, or some such place, but they do say one of my ancestors took a fairy wife." She winked to Lemmoriel. "I think they mean an elf!"

"I would say I didn't believe that, but I am married to a dwarf, after all," Lemmoriel said, squeezing her wife's hand. "Thank you very much for your invitation, Belladonna. Perhaps we shall take you up on it sometime."

"Please do!" Belladonna said. "And thank _you_ for your hospitality—I'm sure I would've spent a rather anxious night alone in the dark if it weren't for your kindness."

"Farewell, _mellon_ ," Gunvor said, and the elvish word rolled off her tongue so naturally Belladonna could've forgotten she was a dwarf. "May your journey home be swift and safe!"

"And farewell to you also," she said, bowing one last time to her new friends. "Though I wouldn't mind a bit more adventure, should it wish to find me!"

They laughed together for a moment, and then Belladonna set out across the bridge. She glanced back but once as the river disappeared into the eastern haze, and smiled at the final sight of Lammoriel and Gunvor, unlikely but happy wives. They shared a kiss, waved once more to Belladonna, and then hand in hand, they jogged around the corner and out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


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